


all those chandeliers of hope

by someonelsesheart



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, because what's better than christmas angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonelsesheart/pseuds/someonelsesheart
Summary: Angela has her heart broken on Christmas.





	all those chandeliers of hope

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas. Happy holidays. Honestly will never be over these two.

Angela has her heart broken on Christmas.

She’s always loved the holiday – the snow, the lights, the markets. Back in Switzerland, she used to attend her local Christmas market so often they knew her by name. She would string up Christmas lights around her house, over the roof, and ignore the men who told her she couldn’t do it on her own.

She’d loved Christmas, once.

It was one of the coldest days of winter. The world had frozen up so it was too cold to even snow. Ice covered the ground. The streets were deserted. Angela gathered up her scarf tighter around herself. She had planned to surprise him. They’d been planning Christmas together for months.

And there he had been. On the bridge.

Angela stopped. In the moment, the world seemed to freeze around her. There was a high pitch noise in her ears. Her breath caught.

“Sorry,” he said, stumbling over words like he’d stumbled into another woman’s mouth, and she barely heard him. “Sorry, I’m –”

She had run. And then she’d never stopped running.

*

Mercy didn’t know how to love like Angela had.

Angela was warm, soft, hopefully. And as the world changes, Angela becomes Mercy, and Mercy becomes cold and sad. To others, she’s the kindest person they know. She tries to keep the ugly inside.

Christmases pass, and the world falls apart. Mercy dreams of Christmas lights, and fights her way through Christmas day after Christmas day. She kisses people but never stays. She loves briefly and never enough.

And then there’s her team.

She loves them like she’s never loved anyone else. Winston’s gentleness. Reinhardt’s kindness. Ana’s honesty. McCree’s terrible jokes. And of course, Gabriel and Jack, and their bickering, and their dedication.

They all spend Christmas together. But Mercy always has something to do that day – an emergency, or family (most of whom she can’t stand).

They don’t ask.

But she hears the questions in the silence after, anyway.

*

Like all good things, Overwatch falls apart.

It breaks Mercy’s heart.

To the media, she says it’s for the best. To her family, she says the world will be okay. And to Winston, she says goodbye.

She goes to London, where they need her, and pretends not to notice the Christmas lights and the snowflakes beginning to gather on her coat. She helps the sick and wounded and mourns the dead.

The world doesn’t need Overwatch anymore.

But she misses them like a limb, spends Christmas working and aches for their comfort, and sometimes she dreams that she’s there again, in the headquarters, surrounded by her friends and alcohol and presents.

*

Contrary to popular belief, Mercy meets Widowmaker long before she rejoins Overwatch, when Widow tries to kill her.

It’s straight after Overwatch’s end, and Mercy is in London, and it’s snowing. She’s on her way back to her lodgings, and realises she’s being followed about halfway home. And it’s not so much fear in her heart – she can feel the sniper trained at her head. It would kill her instantly.

She knows the exact moment Widowmaker is going to take the shot.

She shoots. The shot rings out in the echoing silence of the empty street. Mercy dodges out of the way and the bullet hits the ground instead. Mercy turns and Widow seems taken by surprise, a spider out of her element. She drops to the ground from the rooftop – a long drop, but she lands gracefully.

“You knew I was following you,” says Widow, confused, helpless.

Mercy doesn’t reply, just brushes snow off of her coat.

“Why did you not run?” Widow persists.

“I’ve spent a long time running from things,” Mercy says with a shrug. “I’d rather look death in the face than run from it.”

“You wish to die.”

“I don’t wish to die,” Mercy says. “I don’t particularly wish to live, either.”

Widow lets her go. She feels the woman’s eyes trained on her as she walks away, but not the scope of a sniper.

Mercy hesitates and looks back. “You know, I used to be Amelie’s best friend.”

“I am no longer Amelie.”

“I know,” Mercy says, and she smiles.

The next time they meet, Mercy thinks Widow might hesitate to try to kill her.

Curiosity killed the spider.

*

They meet again, in different places, in different countries. At night and in the day, in the early hours of the morning. 

Widow grows on Mercy slowly, like a stray dog.

*

The first time Winston calls her, it’s hot, sweltering summer, and she’s in California. She doesn’t answer. She goes to a bar and drinks herself nearly dead.

She’s ill for a week.

She doesn’t go.

*

The second time, it’s mid-December, and Mercy’s home.

She’s back in big, loud, beautiful Zurich. Her parents have invited her for Christmas, but she won’t go. She can’t stand another long Christmas with questions about when she’s going to get married. She’s never told her parents she occasionally dates girls. She thinks it would actually send them to an early grave.

She has an apartment in Zurich, and she sits on the balcony and looks out at the freezing city. Snow hasn’t come yet, but it will soon. It’s already nearly below zero.

The recall comes through her computer loud and clear.

She tilts her head back and, as she watches the sky, it begins to snow.

In the distance, she can hear Christmas carols. They sound almost haunting as they echo throughout the city. Mercy closes her eyes and feels the snowflakes melt like tears on her face.

“Okay, Winston,” she whispers. “You win.”

*

She meets Lucio, in his joy and softness. And D.va, who acts loud and obnoxious but is so, so kind and quiet at other times. Nobody can believe it when they find Mercy and Hana walking outside in silence together, enjoying the cool, open space.

But Mercy can see the sadness in Hana's eyes, one that yearns for a home she’s never had. She thinks she understands that.

And then there’s Pharah, who makes Mercy miss Ana like an actual physical pain.

It feels like a family again, except there’s no Jack, or Gabe, and Amelie’s all but dead, but it’s more than she’s ever had and more than she’s ever deserved.

On December 17th, Lucio announces they will all be spending Christmas together.

“Don’t you have a family to go to?” asks Torb, a little meanly. Mercy hits him.

“Not one that matters,” says Lucio with a shrug. “I like you guys better, anyway.”

Mercy pretends not to see the disappointment in his eyes when she leaves four days before Christmas. She pretends that it doesn’t hurt at all.

*

By some irony, Mercy ends up in a bar with Widowmaker as Christmas carols play in the background and a fire crackles.

“What a coincidence,” Mercy says, not even trying to sound excited. She throws back her whiskey like a shot.

“Not at all,” says Widowmaker, sitting down opposite her in the booth. “I sought you out.”

Mercy rolls her eyes. “Of course. Going to try to kill me again?”

Widowmaker doesn’t say anything. She plays with the stem of the glass of red wine she has in her hand. Finally, Widow says, “You loved her.”

“What?”

“I remember,” says Widow. “You loved Amelie.”

Mercy looks at Widow for a long moment. Then she sighs and looks away. “How much do you remember?”

“She loved you, too.”

“She loved Gerald more.” Mercy inclines her head. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Widow doesn’t seem to understand such a statement. She smiles a little bit and says, “I have decided to leave Talon.”

Mercy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Why? I don’t buy that you’re suddenly on the good side now.”

“Oh, by all means, not at all.” Widow actually laughs. “I intend to hunt down and kill every leading member of Talon. It is a matter of revenge. I do not like Overwatch, but I thought it would be a mission they would like to join me on.”

Mercy says, “Why are you asking me? Ask Winston. Anybody else.”

“Because I trust you,” says Widow. “I cannot tell you why, but I do.”

Mercy says, “I guess this means I have to return.”

“Were you running from them?” Widow smirks. “I thought you were done with running.”

“Some things I _don’t_ need to face. Like Christmas festivities.”

“You always disliked Christmas,” Widow says, and Mercy isn’t sure she likes this whole ‘remembering’ thing. “Why?”

“I used to love Christmas,” says Mercy, and the alcohol has made her too honest.

“What happened?”

“What always happens,” says Mercy, grim. “Somebody broke my heart.”

*

Widow doesn’t get along with anybody in Overwatch, but Winston can’t pass up the opportunity to have Widow as an ally. They’re already navigating mostly above the law. What’s another criminal?

It’s not the same as before. She’s not Amelie.

But it’s something.

On Christmas Eve, Mercy stays. She spends time with her friends. She doesn’t mention the fact that Widow hasn’t left, for some reason. She’s always there, hanging back, watching with amusement.

“Probably waiting to kill us,” mutters Zarya, who hates her.

“Be kind,” says Zenyatta, and Genji nods. Mercy tries not to laugh.

*

She doesn’t see Widow after that until later that night. Mercy is sitting on her bed with the balcony doors open, letting the freezing cold air blow in. Widow drops onto the balcony with all the grace of somebody with absolutely no people skills, and Mercy jumps off the bed so fast she hurts her back.

“You’re still here,” says Mercy.

“So are you,” says Widow. “I thought you planned to leave.”

“I couldn’t stand the look in Lucio’s eyes when I said I was going. It was like kicking a puppy.” Mercy sighs. “I will probably still leave. Soon.”

Widow humms and stands in the doorway, somewhat awkward. She says, “If Talon finds me, they will certainly kill me.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too.”

“I just mean,” says Widow, walking closer to her. “If I am to die, I would like to do it with no regrets.”

Mercy stares at her. And stares. “What on earth are you saying?”

Widow kisses her. After a moment of disbelief, Mercy kisses her back. She doesn't want to ask. She wants to just let the moment be, with Widow's hands resting on her waist, the snow falling outside.

Somewhere in the distance, a bell chimes, and the cracks along Mercy's heart begin to slowly mend.


End file.
